


Liquid Courage

by vivaldis_lover



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Drunken Shenanigans, Fluff, Grand Prix Final Banquet, Kissing, M/M, more or less, what is this even
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-13
Updated: 2017-02-13
Packaged: 2018-09-24 03:51:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9698894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vivaldis_lover/pseuds/vivaldis_lover
Summary: It's Phichit's turn to get drunk at the banquet, but unfortunately for Chris, no pole dancing is involved this year. He will get his reward for taking care of the young skater, though.





	

**Author's Note:**

> It's been, like, five years since the last time I wrote something, so be kind. I was never a talented writer and I'm rusty. ALSO keep in mind that english is not my first language. I checked the fic for grammar mistakes, but some may have slipped.

No matter how much Phichit repeated to himself that it didn’t matter, that he did the history of his country anyway, the disappointment for placing last at his first Grand Prix final still burned. Standing next to the buffet, he glanced at Victor and Yuuri dancing together and imagined how Yuuri must have felt the year before. Like him, maybe, or maybe worse. His friend had been there alone, after all. Seeing him so happy made him smile, but didn’t reduce the frustration.

He was really tipsy, almost drunk. Too busy socializing with the other guests, he had lost sense of how much he was drinking. Celestino was nowhere in sight, probably chatting with some other coach. He was grateful to his coach’s attitude: he had kept telling him that this was only the beginning and that the next seasons he could place even higher.

“I just need more quads,” he was explaining to Otabek. “Or hamster hats.”

Otabek was listening very carefully, even though he had no idea what the skater was talking about. He had followed around Yuri for most of the evening, but now his friend was in the middle of a dance off against the Japanese Yuuri. He had decided to stick with Phichit because he looked friendly. In fact he didn’t have to say anything: the Thai skater was doing all the talking.

“Fascinating,” replied Otabek hearing about the hamster hats. He was confused but somehow intrigued.

“It will be an amazing show. And you will be there too.”

Otabek nodded while Phichit finished his umpteenth glass of wine. He placed the flute on the table with great care, feeling his coordination worsen the more he drank. The Kazak noticed this and wondered if it was the case to encourage the other skater to go easy on the alcohol.

Phichit on the other hand was having a great time and had no intentions of stopping. He was feeling less and less the disappointment. He was also happy he had found such a good listener: hopefully they could exchange phone numbers later. After all he had to keep Otabek updated on his show, didn’t he? He was going to grab the next glass of wine, but in that moment he spotted Chris in the crowd and waved in his direction.

“Chris, come here!” he shouted. Hearing his name being called, the Swiss skater looked around and finally noticed Phichit. Otabek tensed a little: he didn’t really know how to deal with him and his seemingly endless flirting. Luckily the dance off was over and Yuri was finally free. He excused himself to avoid being rude, but Phichit was not paying attention to him anymore.

“Christophe! My friend!” He threw his arms around Chris’s neck. “Are you not gonna pole dance for us today?”

Chris chuckled. “Unfortunately no, my dear. They didn’t let me bring the pole this year.”

“Noo,” moaned Phichit. “I really wanted to record it!”

Chris tilted his head. “Chu, are you drunk?”

The other giggled. “Maybe!” He then let go of his friend and went to the buffet to grab another glass. The Swiss followed his unsteady gait with his gaze. He watched Phichit lean on Yuuri and compliment him on his medal.

He felt Victor by his side. “You’re pissed, aren’t you?”

Chris’s grip tightened around his glass. “Of course I am. But I’m not giving up, not after your comeback’s announcement.”

Victor nodded and took a sip of wine. “Looking forward to another season of competition.”

“Me too, coach Victor.”

They saw Phichit and Yuuri come back in their direction. The first was basically hanging from the other’s neck and both their faces were red, one from dancing, the other from the alcohol. He had a flashback of last year’s banquet and wondered if Phichit was the type to throw himself into a wild dance-off when drunk, like his best friend.

_“I really wish we had a pole now.”_

He wondered if Phichit and Yuuri took pole dancing lessons together – but that was unlikely, given Phichit’s reaction when he showed the pictures from last year.

He was left alone again with the Thai. Victor and Yuuri had decided to disappear somewhere and Chris was left to take care of the wasted youngster.

 _“So I’m a baby-sitter, now,”_ he though, slightly amused. He was supporting Phichit with an arm around his waist, so that he wouldn’t stumble, but also to prevent him from collapsing on strangers. He didn’t mind that: Phichit was smaller and shorter than him and his body fit perfectly on his side. He let the younger skater lead them around the hall. Chris was having more fun than expected, trying to chat with his drunk friend.

“Chris?” Phichit mumbled after a while.

“Yes?”

“I…” He paused. “I think I’m gonna throw up…”

They rushed to the bathroom. Chris patted him on the back as Phichit puked his guts out. He was tempted to give a ‘drink responsibly’ speech, after he was done throwing up, but he decided not to – the guy was twenty after all.

Also, after all those years of competitions, he knew exactly why Phichit was like this. When the Thai was done, he led him outside, to breathe some fresh air. December in Barcelona was not as cold as December in Switzerland, but it was probably colder than Thailand. Phichit was shaking, so he put his jacket on his shoulders.

“Thanks…” he mumbled, grasping on Chris’s jacket.

“Don’t mention it.”

“Next time I’ll go easy on the wine.” He was talking mostly to himself.

They stood in silence for a while, watching the sky and the few visible stars, Phichit lost in his thoughts, Chris ready to guide him back inside in case he felt sick again.

“I’m just…” He paused, trying to put his jumbled thoughts in order, through the alcohol and tiredness. “I’m not satisfied.”

“It’s understandable.” Chris chuckled. “To be honest, you didn’t have much luck. This year’s Final was filled with prodigies.”

The other nodded. He was aware of that. “And you? Aren’t you upset?”

“Of course I am. A fifteen year old took the gold. I already felt old, now I feel _ancient_.” They both laughed. “But,” Chris continued, becoming serious again. “It doesn’t end here. There are still a lot of other competitions coming up. Europeans for me, Four Continents for you.” He turned to Phichit and smiled. “This is only your beginning.”

Phichit couldn’t help but smile in return, feeling grateful to Chris for his words. He got closer and hugged him. To think that Chris, who placed fifth, just one spot above him, was comforting him, when he probably wanted some encouragement too, made him feel egoistic. But he was still dizzy, for the alcohol and for throwing up, and he was not able to put together something, a sentence or a speech, to make the other feel better.

So Phichit put his hands on Chris shoulders, got on his tiptoes and kissed him. He had wanted to do that for a while. Since the Cup of China, when they first met and Chris caught his attention with his confidence and the way his body moved. He had fantasized a lot about those lips, wondered about how soft they were.

Of course it was not one of those mind-blowing kisses that people tend to remember. He was aware of how bad his breath was at the moment. He kept his lips sealed, settling for pressing them against Chris’s. At the moment he felt content with this.

The Swiss was surprised, but not displeased. He didn’t make Phichit out to be this daring and yet there he was. The Thai skater intrigued him. There was clearly more to him than met the eye, more than his cheerful personality and love for social media.

Maybe this was worth not pole dancing.

It lasted a few seconds, then Phichit moved his head and hid his face in Chris’s hollow neck. The Swiss gingerly put his hand on the other’s hips and they stood like that for a while. For the first time Chris was not sure about what to do. Phichit’s kiss had caught him completely off-guard. It was not like him to be disoriented in a romantic situation.

He felt Phichit’s body getting heavier.

“Chu?”

“Mh?”

“You’re not falling asleep, right?”

“Mmh.”

Chris sighed and picked Phichit up, who didn’t protest, to bring him to his room. Half-asleep, the Thai relished the heat coming from Chris’s muscular chest and rested his head on his shoulder. After putting Phichit on his bed, Chris tried to leave, but before he could even get away from the bed, the other grabbed his tie. Chris opened his eyes wide, surprised once again.

“Stay here,” mumbled Phichit. “Please.”

He told himself that this way he could take better care of the drunk. So he took off his shirt and pants, and slipped under the covers. Phichit curled up against him.

 _“I wonder if this could be the start of something,”_ he thought as the other fell asleep.


End file.
